


The Consulting Team of Madmen In a Blue Box

by orphan_account



Category: Doctor Who, Sherlock - Fandom, Supernatural, Superwholock - Fandom
Genre: F/M, M/M, No warnings means no spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-03
Updated: 2013-07-03
Packaged: 2017-12-17 13:28:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/868085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor can't deal with the loneliness that came from losing all his companions so many times. So in order to find somebody who can last to fulfill his selfishness, he watches TV. But that's never been a good idea.</p><p>The Winchester brothers never die.<br/>Detectives have extreme amounts of luck.<br/>So maybe, this time, he'll have friends that won't leave him with his hearts broken.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Everybody dies. The end. Or is it?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EvilKitten42](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvilKitten42/gifts).



"C'mon, guys," Sam smiled nervously. "Is there really any point in doing this? I mean, without me there's still Dean and he's like, _ten times_ stronger than me." He was cornered by three demons on the roof of a skyscraper, about 10 steps away from falling off into certain death. The wind was harsh, and hurting the left side of his face.

"Don't try and fool us, Sam, we know that you're the better one out of the two, the smarter one. Not to mention that you have more muscles than Dean has guns. Theres an _actual reason_ why we're doing this. _"_ The demon at the front of them, possesing a young woman with black hair and a large cut on the side of her cheek, walked closer to him, making the 10 steps, 8.....

"Well, uh, I wouldn't exactly say it in that way, especially not in front of him but uh- woah woah woah let's take it easy here!" Sam didn't particularly like being thrown off a building and the fact that there was no wall immediately behind him was making him uneasy.

6....

"Come on Sam, wasn't hell fun? Didn't you just have all the _best times_ with us?" she hissed.  
5....

"You've gotta be kidding me. If I saw your face down there it sure as hell wasn't as fun as it was supposed to be."

4....

"As sure as hell? Yeah, soon you're surely going _to_ hell."

3....

Sam whipped his head around and saw the horrible fall down, and there didn't seem to be a truck full of pillows coming along any time soon.

"Okay, maybe we can just be calm here, I can uh, speak to him other ways maybe? You know, without the eternal suffering and all that."

2.... Sam was getting extremely nervous by now, if he didn't get out of this in _five seconds flat._

"Really? I don't know why we would do that."

1....

"Time's up."

The demon abruptly ran forward and kicked him square in the chest, causing him to topple backwards and seemingly froze in mid-air for a moment when his feet left the ground and he started to fall.

Among all the screaming of fear in his entire body, he thought;

_Well, this is it._

_I'm dying._

_Again._

 

But no, the fall lasted quite a bit shorter than normal if you fell off a skyscraper, and instead of landing on hard cement, he fell on something that seemed like a very large pole.

Blinded, back aching and heart beating at a million miles per hour, he was now lying on some sort of staircase. He warily opened his eyes and saw a sliver of the night sky before they were blocked from view by blue doors closed by a man he didn't recognise at all. Did he save him? Well, he hurts a lot, so that's probably not the case.

Once he did that, the stranger ran and went straight up to Sam, pushing buttons and turning knobs on the big, glowing dashboard along the way. The entire room lurched and then rocked alot for a while before finally cmoing to a stop.

"Hello! Sam Winchester, you would be? Yes, yes, you're the tall one with the Chewbacca hair, that's just how I remember you, by those girls description. Your welcome for catching you, would've had a nasty fall there, and you did miss the pool when you got here, but you'll survive. Come on, Sam, stand up! I've watched what you do, you've been through worse, come on, come on."

Sam managed to shakily get on his feet while the other man ran around the big glowy thing and flipped switches and rotating handles.

"I'm the Doctor by the way. Not _a_ doctor, _the_ Doctor. Sounds a bit egocentric though, hey? Being 'THE Doctor' while there are many more hard working actual Doctors down back on Earth with degrees framed on their office walls and everything." He stopped rambling and fiddling with things and turned around to face Sam in all his confusion. He held his finger up with a realising expression on his face.

"Ah. Yes. You are completely dumbfounded by this, right? Don't be embarrassed, happens a lot, but now we have to get into the important stuff!" The Doctor, as he said, put his face dramatically up close to Sams (which was kind of hard since Sam was a good 5 inches taller than him) and whispered,

"Now where's your brother, Sam?"


	2. Chapter 2

Over in a completely different country, another dimension even, a certain man with curly black hair in a large coat was investigating one of the most exciting series of murders he had seen for quite a long time.   
Sherlock Holmes was in his autopsy room next to John Watson, with the three bodies in question on tables before him.   
"This is marvellous, John. Murder cleanly done, even though he can't have spent more than three seconds on each. Figuring this one out will be tricky, but it's going to be brilliant, I can just feel it!"  
"Sherlock, it's a bit worrying that you're this excited about three dead people with all their insides scraped out."  
"Scraped? No, they were broken off, pulled, judging by the small attachments left. You should be able to see that. Could even say they were sucked out."  
"That's disgusting."  
"But it's fascinating."  
"How do you know that it was done so fast anyway?"  
"All three victims had left, late at night, after work. The receptionists saw them go, but according to them, they had hardly stepped out before they saw the bodies." Sherlocks eyes sparkled. He was unnaturally excited about this, as always.  
John turned around and started walking off. "C'mon Sherlock, about time we get home."

Back in their apartment, Sherlock was playing his violin again, thinking of how exactly the villain could have done all that work in under five seconds. He thought about what he said to John in the laboratory, about the victims insides being sucked out. But what could possibly do that? He guessed that he would just have to wait for more clues, meaning the next murder.  
"Hey, Molly's coming back from America today, right?" John looked up from his newspaper.  
"Yes. I believe so." At that moment, Sherlock's phone made a noise; he had finally managed to get Adler's ridiculous tone off it, and instead, as a joke, John had installed a trumpet sound instead. Even now he chuckled as Sherlock glared at him and picked it up.

We're throwing a small welcome back party for Molly and everybody's places are taken. Mind us using yours? -GL  
Sherlock let out a frustrated sigh and threw the phone towards John.  
"What is it? Do you want to?" He asked after reading the text.  
"Well of course I don't want to!" Sherlock snapped. He turned back to his sheet music. "But aren't I required to? It is Molly, even though I don't understand why "Welcoming" parties, or any other sort of parties for that matter."  
"Well should I say yes?"  
"No!"  
"Okay then, I'll tell him no-"  
"No, don't do that either." Sherlock walked over, snatched the phone back and tapped out a reply.

Why? -SH

A few minutes later, the phone made another trumpet noise.

Welcome back party for you too, since you just came back from the dead. -GL

Fine. -SH

~~~

Some time later, the living room had all the people who cared that Molly came back, and then a few more since they heard there was free drinks and they were in the police department.  
A soon as Molly came in, they all shouted "Welcome back!" and started pushing drinks towards her. Greg went over to her and whispered in her ear. "Hey there's something I want to show you."   
Everybody went quiet when they parted and Molly saw Sherlock, alive and sitting there on the couch like he hadn't disappeared for three years pretending to be underground and unmoving.  
"Sh-sherlock?" she whispered.  
"Molly." He said back indifferently.  
"Welcome back guys!" shouted a policeman they didn't know, who had already gotten at least half-drunk. he seemed to be one of the people who didn't care about either of them and just came for the edibles.  
He sparked off the others who suddenly started making all the ridiculous party noises again and Sherlock and Molly were separated again.

The grouping eventually filtered out, and the only ones left were Sherlock, John, Molly, Lestrade and the guy who had shouted "Welcome back". The last one however, had fainted from drinking too much and so they dumped him outside the door.  
Molly Hooper had changed a lot in three years. Her red hair was now down to the middle of her back, but she decided to put it up in a bun halfway through the party. Her height had hardly changed, though her clothing style was a bit different, which was most likely influenced by her trip to America. She had also managed to get a number of injuries on her body, ranging from a small cut on her cheek to a massive bruise on her right arm.  
"Sherlock? But how?"   
"I'd rather not disclose that information right now."  
"Molly, trust me, we've tried. The most we can get out of him is 'the truck'." said John.  
Molly just stared at Sherlock in silence for a few minutes, then leaned forward and slapped him hard across the face.  
Sherlock was used to people hitting him now (he had gained several bruises and a bloody nose when he first showed him self to John) so he just turned his head back to her slowly and closed his eyes.  
"Molly, I-"  
"Don't you dare say you are sorry." She hissed and crossed her arms.  
"You made us believe you were dead for three years. THREE. YEARS, Sherlock, did you know what that did to us?"  
"It kept you alive."  
"How? Moriarty is dead, and the assassins gave up! You could have showed up at your funeral or something, maybe not just run off for three bloody years!"  
"The assassins were most likely on orders from him to continue even after he died. He knew-"  
"They. Saw. You. Die." When Sherlock didn't answer, Molly sat heavily back down. She picked up her drink and they all sat in silence for a while.  
"I'm glad you're back though."  
"Molly-"  
"No." she snapped.  
"No, Molly, what happened to your arm?"  
"What about my arm?"  
"There was a large bruise on your right arm, where's it gone?" And true enough, her arm was completely void of any wounds, even though there was one about thirty seconds ago.  
"Well, maybe it just wasn't there to begin with."   
"No, I'm sure-"  
"Maybe you should go to bed, Sherlock. That wasn't exactly the best of parties for you." John said.  
"I'll have more tea instead." He walked very quickly to the kitchen.

When he came back, Greg and John were laughing at a story Molly was telling them about her trip in America.  
"-and, oh my god, he was humongous, I just had to study him, they got into the newspaper that day for saving some people's lives, here I'll show you." She reached into her handbag and pulled out a folded page of the newspaper. She flipped it over to show the picture and it showed the giant that Molly was talking about and two other men, one in a jacket and the other in a trenchcoat.  
"They threw something at the guy who was attacking people, I think it was sugar, and then he disappeared and then went behind them and then they picked up an iron bar and woosh." Molly swung her arm for emphasis.  
The front door suddenly shut with a loud bang, startling everybody except Sherlock, who just turned his head quickly towards it.  
"What was that?" Molly squeaked.   
"Maybe it was the drunk guy," said John. Sherlock went over and opened the door again, but the unconscious body of the man was still there. He closed the door and walked swiftly to where Molly was sitting.  
"No, it happened as soon as you swung your arm, Molly, why did that happen?"  
"It was just a coincidence! Maybe it was the wind?"  
"There is no wind in here strong enough to close the door that heavily. Molly, tell me what you're doing!"  
"Sherlock, you're insane!" shouted Lestrade, standing up.  
"Why did that HAPPEN?" Sherlock yelled and the door was thrown open again and they whipped around to look at a tall man standing in their doorway, wearing suspenders and a bow tie.  
"I have an answer for that!" he announced and everybody just stared at him.


End file.
